Addict
by moviemaniac12
Summary: It's all too tempting for even the most controlled of Point Men. When Arthur can't take it anymore, he turns to the most addictive of substances to fulfill his crave for rebellion. Drugs, drink and violence ensue.
1. Prolouge

**DISCLAIMER: Christopher Nolan owns Inception, I do not.**

**Please review and let me know what you think. This is just a taster of what is yet to come.**

* * *

"_Behind every Extractor, is a loyal Point Man,_

_And behind every Point Man is a persistent flaw."_

Those were the words spoken by Professor Miles, one of the greatest Extractors who ever lived.

I don't agree with this statement. I think that behind every Point Man, there is more than one flaw. In my case, there are many.

I never used to be this untied. There was a time when I was dependable, honest, hard working. Cobb was my best friend and I had a brilliant team behind me. Now I'm alone in my apartment, fucked out of my head, wondering where my next drug supply is coming from.

I betrayed my team, hurt my friends and damaged myself. All because I, the humble Point Man, couldn't help but become addicted. Addicted to drugs, violence and booze.

This is my story. Long and tough, but needs to be said. Maybe one day they'll forgive me for doing what I did, but in the mean time, loneliness is my best friend. Loneliness and vodka.


	2. Release

**DISCLAIMER: Christopher Nolan owns Inception.**

**PLEASE review! Merci.**

* * *

"Arthur, are you alright?"

I looked up at Cobb, feeling the heaviness of my eyes. I forced a smile and nodded.

"Yeah, just tired."

He frowned. "Arthur, if I'm making you work too hard-"

"No, it's fine. Seriously. It's just I was up all night trying to finish the research on Dolton."

He paused, looking me over. "Alright…just let me know if you need a break."

"I promise." He looked at me once more before walking away. Recently I had been a lot more tired. I was working hard, desperate to please Cobb. Nights were spend working away at the laptop, and on average I went to bed at around 3:30am. I wasn't one to show weakness, even when it came to health.

It's not that the job was particularly hard, I was just desperate to work hard and show my stamina when it came to doing my duty. It seemed that no matter what I did, Cobb just focused his attention on Ariadne and her dreamscape, or Eames and his forgery. The need to please was knowing away at the back of my head. It had been like that since the Inception. After the Fischer security screw up, I wanted to redeem myself.

We were working in Los Angeles this time, adjusting to Cobb's need to see his kids. I had to admit, I liked it a little better than Paris. I much preferred sleeping in my own apartment than in some hotel.

I heard a chair scrape behind me.

"Well, I'm off. See you all tomorrow!" Yusuf hurried, gathering his things. I threw a pathetic wave as a goodbye.

"Yeah me too, need to get the babysitter home," Cobb said, making his way to the door. "See you tomorrow, and get some sleep Arthur."

I shot him a look and received a lop sided smile. As soon as he left, Eames stretched his arms above his head.

"Well now that the old man is gone, let's have some fun," he said, his thick accent rolling off his tongue.

"Eames, I've got to finish this," Ariadne said, not taking her eyes off her sketch.

"Fine. Miss out. What about you, Arthur? Fancy some fun?"

I rolled my eyes. "Somehow, I think are definitions of fun are noticeably different."

Eames raised his eyebrows. "Well you two are boring. Come on! Come out for a drink with me. If you want to finish your work so badly, then come in early tomorrow. Don't tell me that you honestly think that coming out with me would be better than staying here?" he pleaded.

Ariadne looked at me. I sighed and shut down my laptop, grabbing my jacket. Eames clapped his hands together.

"Fantastic, let's go. I call shotgun!"

I may have imagined it, but I swear I heard Ariadne give a little moan of disappointment.

Eames insisted on taking us to some sleazy bar. He may have looked right at home, but Ariadne and I stuck out like a sore thumb.

"Drink up," he said, placing 3 small glasses down on the table. I looked at the clear liquid.

"Eames, what is this?"

He smirked. "You're so uptight. Just have a drink and stop thinking about the details."

At that point I was a little pissed. I was tired of Eames making fun of me, I'm a grown man for god sakes. I grabbed the glass and tipped it down my throat.

The liquid burnt my mouth, and I felt like choking it back up. On attempt to look normal, I swallowed it down, letting the strange sensation run down my throat.

"Well done. Feel good?" he asked, swallowing down his drink. He did it so casually, but I'm assuming he had plenty of practice.

I nodded. "Another."

"That's the bloody spirit!" he exclaimed, motioning to the waitress.

Ariadne attempted to swallow her drink down, making an unusual sound as the drink slid down her throat. "Oh God," she muttered.

3 More glasses were placed down in front of us. With a little less hesitation, I grabbed the glass and swallowed it back, ignoring the burning sensation. Eames raised his eyebrows.

"Wow, I'm impressed. You're becoming a bit more fun."

"More," I insisted. He paused.

"Well…alright then."

I liked it. I was becoming more relaxed, more comfortable. I was able to think about something else other than work. I had three more shots before I asked the waitress for a bigger drink. Eames looked at me, a little cautious.

"You sure you want more? You don't seem like the kind of guy that drinks too often."

I nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. Great actually. Give me another shot."

He slowly pushed another glass to me, with I knocked back with no problem. I saw Eames and Ariadne exchange glances.

I loosened my tie and removed my jacket when my drink came. I knew I was going to enjoy it. I grinned at the glass before swallowing the amber liquid. My head rushed as I finished the drink, starting to feel a little happier.

"Wow, we should do this more often," I smiled.

Ariadne looked at her watch. "Woah, where does the time go? It's 2.00am!"

I threw my hand in the air. "It's cool, we can stay a little longer."

I had another drink. My body started letting go, and I could feel all the stress I had been carrying around the past few days releasing. I enjoyed it. I reached for the next glass but Eames's hand stopped mine. I stared at him, confused.

"Arthur, that's enough for now."

I furrowed my brow. "What? Don't be stupid, I'm just starting to enjoy myself."

Eames furrowed his brow. "Arthur, we've got work tomorrow. If you want more we can come back on the tomorrow night."

I rolled my eyes. "Fine!" I snapped. I stood up, forgetting my jacket in the process.

Surely if I wanted to drink, that would be alright? This was a good thing, I was feeling more relaxed and happy. Why did Eames want me to stop?

I stumbled a little as we walked to the car. I felt Eames's hand on my arm, steadying me.

"I'll drive," Ariadne said, climbing into the front. "I've only had one."

I sulked in the back on the way home. Sure, I was feeling a little drunk, but what harm would it do? Eames was always saying I needed to let loose.

"You alright getting in?" Eames asked as we pulled up to my apartment building.

"Yeah, I'm not a baby," I mumbled, slamming the door behind me. The car pulled away, leaving me alone in the dark. I paused for a moment before reaching to my pants to pull out my keys. It took me 5 goes to fit the key in the lock.

As I was walking up the stairs, I tripped on my own feet and slammed into the wall.

"Shit," I muttered, rubbing my nose. "Where did that wall come from?"

When I got into my apartment, I didn't bother to take off my clothes. I walked into the bedroom and collapsed on the bed, letting my heavy eyes fall.

When I woke up, the first thing I thought was…ow.


	3. Unleashed

**New chapter! Review please!**

**DISCLAIMER: Christopher Nolan owns Inception.**

* * *

"Wow, since when did Mick Jagger join the team?"

I growled at Eames and slumped over to his desk. My head was killing, and the bright lights of the warehouse burnt. I managed to put on some fresh clothes that morning, but my bloodshot eyes and sore muscles stayed.

Cobb frowned at Eames. "What did you do to him last night?"

"We went out for a few drinks. Arthur decided to have the whole bar."

I let his head fall into his hands. "I wasn't that bad."

Ariadne raised her eyebrows. "Do you even know how much you drank last night?"

Cobb looked at me. I hated the way he did that, almost like I was a child. I shrugged and felt my lip curl at him. His eyes widened.

"Do you have a problem, Arthur?" he asked, crossing his arms.

"Yeah, I do. So I had a few drinks last night, what's the problem?"

Eames stood up. I was starting to feel a little cornered. "A few? Arthur, you were so pissed you could hardly see straight."

I didn't remember being that drunk. I swear I wasn't that bad.

I looked up at them. "Look, are you going to let me do my job? Because if not, then I'm going home."

Cobb paused. "What's going on with you? Something is really not right."

I stood up, pushing my chair back with more force than necessary. "Why? Because I'm a little tired? Because last night I actually had a little fun? Because I have a little attitude today? I'm not your puppet, Cobb."

"Go home, Arthur. Come back when you're a little more screwed on."

I stormed out, leaving the others in silence. I had worked for Cobb for countless jobs, why didn't he show me any respect? I was a grown man for fucks sake, I could make my own decisions.

I got in my car and started driving. I was feeling the stress bubbling up inside me and I knew the release I needed.

I pulled into the parking lot of the nearest store, practically ripping my keys out of the ignition. I stormed into the store, going straight to the alcohol. I stopped in the middle of the aisle, scanning the rails for something appealing.

_Fuck it, I thought. I started grabbing various bottles of vodka and vast quantities of other brand names. When my arms were full, I started walking to the cashier. _

_I started stacking the bottles onto the desk and looked next to me. There was a girl paying for her stuff. She looked at me and smiled, a promising offer. She was pretty. She opened her mouth to speak, but stopped when she looked at my collection of booze. Her expression quickly turned to disgust and finished paying as quickly as she could._

_I felt a little rejected, but soon it just added to the stress I was feeling. I couldn't get home soon enough._

_As soon as I got through the door, I stripped off my jacket, throwing it onto the floor. I dropped the bag of drinks onto the kitchen table and grabbed a glass._

_I paused after sitting down on a chair. _

_This was unnatural. For me anyway. Normally I was so kept, organised and under control. I felt like there was a part of me destroying the control. I knew I shouldn't be drinking this much, but the stress ate away at my insides, forcing me to find this release. _

_I don't know what made me snap, but the idea of drinking and becoming less controlled exited me. Honestly, the idea seemed…a little badass._

_I poured some vodka in a full size glass and swallowed it down._

_The same burning returned to my throat, but it was more subdued. I liked the taste this time. I knew there were many different ways to drink this, but I was interested in drinking. I didn't care about the style of my sin._

_After a couple of drinks, I started feeling better. I forgot about the others, and the job. The only thing on my mind was the drink in front of me. _

_After a while, I stared feeling a little dizzy. I felt completely relaxed, but my head was having this insane buzz at the same time. I looked at the bag and reached in for another bottle. After feeling around, I opened it up._

_There were only two more bottles of alcohol left. I paused for a moment. I defiantly remembered buying at least 5. A sudden strange sensation of my stomach made me groan._

_I got up out of the chair and leaned against the sink. I emptied out the contents of my stomach, including the alcohol. After puking it all out, I staggered backwards, and tripped on my own feet._

_My head smashed on the floor and everything went black._


	4. Breaking

**Review please!**

**DISCLAIMER: Christopher Nolan owns Inception.**

"Arthur! Can you hear me?"

"Don't yell so loud, you might startle him!"

"Jesus Christ, is he even breathing?"

Voices around me were loud. Too loud. They echoed and screamed through my head. I felt hands on my body, on my head- shit, my head.

"Arthur, please, can you hear me?"

They sounded worried. Frantic.

"What should we do? Call 911?"

No, don't call 911. I tried to respond, but nothing seemed to be working. I could still taste the booze in my mouth.

"Yeah, um, call. I'll try and get him up."

I felt heavy hands on my shoulders pulling me up. Pain rippled through my body as I was arranged to sit up. I moaned a little, and the hands froze.

"He's conscious. Arthur can you-"

My eyes faded to black again.

….

White. I could see it even though my eyes were closed. I could hear machinery around me and feet pacing. My eyelids fluttered, and I squinted through them. The sea of bright white hurt to look at, but I forced my eyes open to see where I was.

A fucking hospital. That was were they had taken me. Great.

I blinked a couple of times, adjusting to the light. I looked around the room and saw a doctor standing over me with a clipboard. He noticed I was awake and smiled.

"Well, Arthur. My name is Doctor Johnson. How are you feeling?" he asked, annoyingly cheerful.

"Wha- what happened?" I asked. My voice was surprisingly weak.

"You passed out. Hit your head pretty hard. 32 stitches."

I passed out? I turned my head but winced in pain. It felt like the worlds worst hangover.

"Take it easy. You'll be sore for a couple of days." He sat on the edge of the bed. The smile slowly fell off his face. "You consumed a lot of alcohol, Arthur. A dangerous amount. A couple of more glasses and you would have probably been comatose."

"I didn't drink that much," I looked at him. "…did I?"

He nodded. "You're lucky your friends found you. Your head was bleeding severely. They seemed pretty worried." He looked at the floor, then back at me. "I hope you don't mind me asking this, but…do you have a drinking problem."

I looked at him in disgust. "Of course I don't. I just had something to drink, it doesn't mean I'm an alcoholic!" The monitor next to me increased beeping, and Dr Johnson went quiet.

"Alright. Well, you're friends will be here soon."

"How long have I been here?"

He paused. "About…a day and a half. You should be able to go home on Tuesday."

I groaned. I hated hospitals.

"Anyway, I have to go and check up on some other patients. If you need anything, just beep."

He gave me a quick nod before walking out of the room. At least someone had sprung for a private room.

I tried moving, but my body and head hurt severely. The strange thing was, is that I didn't feel affected by the alcohol. I didn't seem put off by it. In fact, I felt like I could really use something to drink. I was amazed that I began to feel so calm after I had started drinking. As if things were better. It was pleasurable to get wasted.

"Arthur?"

I looked up. Cobb was standing there with a solemn look on his face. It was silent for a moment. A quick wave of guilt washed over me. Cobb must have felt terrible when he saw me there, head bleeding and empty glasses everywhere.

"Hi."

He walked over and sat on the nearest chair, clasping his hands together. I shifted in the uncomfortable hospital sheets. He looked at the floor.

"We came over to check you were alright. After you stormed out I wanted to apologise. Funnily enough, I was going to ask if you wanted to join me for a drink." He looked up. He looked so ashamed.

"Cobb-"

"After you didn't answer, we walked in anyway. That was probably wrong, but I think it was a good thing we did." He was becoming increasingly angry. "The last thing I was expecting to see was you lying there, almost dead."

I flinched.

"What happened, Arthur? This isn't you! This isn't my Point Man or my best friend! You rarely drink or lose control like that! Is there something you're not telling me? Are you an alcoholic or something?"

"No!"

"Then what was it?"

"It was nice to lose control! I felt like everything was peaceful for once in my life! I liked it!"

"Oh, so this is some sort of teenage rebellion? You thought you'd be all badass and get drunk?"

"WELL IT WORKED, DIDN'T IT?"

He fell silent. I had never yelled at him before. The anger was boiling inside me. He stood up.

"Maybe I should go."

"Yeah, maybe you should," I snapped.

He stared at me before shaking his head and walking away.


	5. Ariadne

**DISCLAIMER: Christopher Nolan owns Inception.**

**I hate this chapter. Not in the sense that it's badly written, but in the sense that I really hate what goes on in the story. I hate what I do to Arthur. Review please!**

**

* * *

**

The next few days at the hospital were torture. It was an endless wave of nurses, doctors and blood tests. All that and no visitors.

Not that I cared. Well…no, I didn't care. Cobb could go to hell after yesterday. Why was it that everyone was accusing me of being an alcoholic?

"Well Arthur," Dr Johnson said, pointing at his clipboard. "Looks like you can go home today."

"Really?"

He smiled. "Yes. So, who's picking you up?"

I paused. "Picking me up?"

"We can't just let you go, unsupervised."

Oh. I scanned my brain for ideas. "Well, can I use the phone?"

He nodded. "Sure, just use the dial code."

He left the room quickly, and I reached for the phone next to the hospital bed. I dialled in a number I knew from heart.

"Hello?" Ariadne's voice filled the other line.

"Ariadne, it's Arthur." There was a pause.

"Oh. How are you?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Listen, I can go home today, but I haven't arranged for anyone to pick me up."

"You want me to pick you up?"

"If that's alright."

"…Why don't you ask Cobb?"

I stopped. Memories of the day he had visited flooded my head. The little parts of anger were becoming triggered.

"I don't think he would want to talk to me."

"Oh. Well…I guess I can pick you up. I'll be there in half an hour."

"Ariadne?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you do me another favour? Is it alright if you go by my place and pick me up some clothes? I don't particularly like the idea of going home in hospital stuff."

"Sure. See you then."

"Thanks. Bye."

I hung up. She sounded so hesitant to pick me up. Whatever, as long as I was going home.

…..

"Thanks for this, Ariadne."

I was in the bathroom, changing. I could hear her shuffling around outside.

"No problem," she called. I finished buttoning up the shirt she had brought me and looked at myself in the mirror. I looked rough, no doubt about it. It was probably the stupid hospital tests all the time. I ran my hand through my hair and sighed.

"How's the job going?" I asked as I opened the door. She looked at me for a moment.

"Good. A little less productive since you've been gone."

"Oh." An awkward silence.

She looked at the floor. "You really worried me. You know that?"

I flinched a little at the remark. "Ariadne, I didn't-"

"Let's just get out of here," she hurried, grabbing my bag in her hand. I followed her slowly down the hallway.

…

Her car was nice. It felt good to have a normal experience that didn't involve needles or heavy medication. It felt human. I didn't like the tension between Ariadne and I. She spend most of the time clutching the wheel for dear life.

"Ariadne, are you alright?"

She shook her head, keeping her eyes on the road. "No, Arthur. I'm not alright. The last few days have been horrible. I was so worried about you. What were you thinking?"

I sighed. "God. I don't know. That night when we went out with Eames, it was one of the most relaxing of my life. I felt like I could let go. The next day I felt so stressed, it seemed the only thing that could cure me was alcohol."

"Arthur-" her voice became kinder, sympathetic. "That sounds like the start of an alcohol problem."

"I don't have an alcohol problem!" I snapped.

She paused. "Arthur, this isn't you! If something's wrong, you know you can talk to any of us!"

I gripped the dashboard in front of me. "No, I can't! Because you all expect me to be the perfect Point Man! I can't lose control or have fun!"

"Of course you can. There's a difference between having fun and being a fucking idiot!"

"Stop the car," I growled.

"Arthur-"

"Stop the fucking car, Ariadne."

The car rolled to a stop, and Ariadne looked at me. Half angry, half scared.

"Let's get one thing straight. None of you have the right to judge me. You all boss me around and play with me like I'm your puppet. Did you ever consider that I might get sick of it? No, you didn't."

"I never-"

"Shut up." She winced at my remark, and small watery droplets formed in her eyes. I was scaring her, I knew it, but I couldn't stop. "This is simply my way of saying stop. I'm a grown man, I can make my own choices in life. If I want to drink, then I can drink. I can go anything I want, and not you, Cobb or Eames is going to change that. Understand?

She nodded her head quickly.

"Good, now take me home."


	6. Luke

**DISCLAIMER: Christopher Nolan owns Inception.**

**

* * *

**

"That's good, maybe add a little less detail over here. The mark will most likely avoid this general area…"

I stood behind the doorway and inhaled a large amount of air. This was my first day back on the job since I was at the hospital, and I had no idea how Cobb was going to react to me being here.

"Maybe we could have a slightly stronger sedative?…"

I sighed and walked in. Cobb immediately sensed my presence and stiffed. Ariadne looked up from her desk.

"Hello." I stood there awkwardly, hands in pockets. Cobb nodded.

"Arthur," he acknowledged. He motioned over to my desktop, where various papers were gathering. "The work for you is over there, and you need to finish your research."

"Oh…sure."

I walked over and sat down in my usual spot, flicking through the papers. I learnt to read when I was 2. I had a high IQ and am able to read around 2000 words per minute, so catching up on work isn't a problem on me. My problem was the tension in the room.

Half an hour passed, and no-one had talked to me. Cob came over once and dropped off a file, containing extra information on the tourist. I looked up at him, but he had avoided eye contact.

Eames arrived after that. He took a look at me and offered a small nod. Still no contact.

By late morning, I had became frustrated and decided to attempt to talk to someone. I walked over to Ariadne and stood over her sketches.

"Ariadne."

She looked up at me and tensed. "Can I do something for you?"

I felt a little hurt. "What? No. I just wanted to talk."

She furrowed her brow. "Yeah well… I think you said enough to me the other day."

She frowned and returned to her work. I hovered my hand over her shoulder, but pulled it back quickly and slowly went over to Eames.

"Hi," I mumbled, rubbing the back of my neck. He looked at me and did a double take.

"You look a bit perkier."

I nodded. "Yeah. So…how, I mean…wh-"

"Look, Arthur. I've kind of got a lot of work to get through."

Another reject. "Sure. I get it."

I sulked back to my desk, and remained there for the rest of the day.

The mood in the room was…awkward to say the least. I couldn't believe my luck when Cobb said we could go home. I had my keys and was out the door quicker than you could say Inception.

As I started driving away, I loosened my collar, letting the cool wind from the window rush over me. What I could really go for would be a drink….

Shit.

No. No, I couldn't. I'd done enough damage with that stuff. The idea of one glass appeared in my mind, and I quickly found myself craving a drink.

Alright, just one drink.

I knew I couldn't go to the store, because I would end up buying several bottles again. I decided to head into the downtown area, where the notorious bars and strip clubs were located. No-one I knew would ever see me there. I would be able to have a drink and relax without being disturbed.

I chose the first bar I saw. Small, but alive. As soon as I walked in, I felt more at home than I did at the warehouse.

Clouds of cigarette smoke filled the air, and the sweet smell of various sprits and beers washed over me. It was busy. People crowded pool tables and the tables and bar stools were taken. I sat quickly down on the first free stool I saw.

"What can I get for you?" The bartender asked.

"Anything. Strong," I insisted. He chuckled to himself and soon served up a small glass full of amber liquid.

I grabbed the glass and soon tasted the drink. My first drink for weeks was as satisfying as I thought it would be. I relished in the sent and savoured every last drop.

"Arthur?"

I froze. I prayed Cobb or Eames hadn't found me. I soon felt a heavy hand on my shoulder. I turned around and took in the appearance of the figure next to me.

It was my old college roommate, Luke. He looked well, confident with a drink in one hand and a cigarette in the other.

"Luke! How are you?" I asked as he grabbed the stool next to me.

"Not bad, not bad. What about you, man? You look good. A little high strung but good," he said with a friendly smile. "Seriously, what's with the James Bond look?" he asked, motioning to my suit.

"Work clothes," I said sheepishly. He nodded.

"Rough day?"

"You have no idea."

He grinned. "Well…here, I was going to finish them, but you look like you could use it a lot more." He held out a small box. On closer inspection, I realised it was a packet of cigarettes. I looked down at them.

"Wow, um, look, Luke-"

"You're not telling me you're not a smoker?" he chuckled.

I decided to humour him and avoid any embarrassment.

"No, of course I am," I said, stuffing the packet into my pocket. I would trash it later.

"It's alright, you can smoke in here," he said, pointing to the smoke clouds behind. I paused.

"_Come on man, it's fine."_

"_I really don't feel comfortable with this."_

_Luke grinned at me. "Fine. I knew you were too much of a chicken to have any fun." He laughed and turned to the people standing behind him. "Come on guys, Arthur's gonna stick this one out. Better go home and get to bed, Artie," he mocked._

_The girls behind him laughed, and I felt a wave of pain and embarrassment wash over me. One of the other guys pointed at me._

"_Pussy!" he yelled, angrily. Luke laughed with him and they started walking off. I watched him in envy. Everyone loved him. I was just the third wheel that always hung on to the pack. I retreated back to my dorm, still hearing the laughter behind me._

I guess that's where you can say it started. The humiliation and envy. The desire to be accepted and loved by others. It always came so easily to guys like Luke. They would do anything they wanted, when they wanted. Probably because they didn't have any Cobbs or Ariadnes to hold them back.

I guess that's what made me decide to smoke that night.


	7. Discovered

**DISCLAIMER: Christopher Nolan belongs to Inception.**

**

* * *

**

I woke up feeling the stinging at the back of my throat and a heaviness in my lungs. My breath was stained with the smell of alcohol and cigarettes. I groaned as I rolled over, feeling the soreness and stiffness in my muscles. I looked at the clock and realised I had to leave if I wanted to be at the warehouse on time.

Getting dressed was tedious. I hadn't been to the dry cleaner in weeks, so my choice ended up being a pair of pants and a winkled shirt, including the jacket I had worn the previous night.

Driving to work wasn't an option. I was far too tired and a little out of it. The walk would take me 20 minutes at least, but the fresh air sounded pretty good to me.

As I walked to the warehouse, the images of the night before rolled through my head like a bad movie. Luke and I had visited various bars and…oh god, I remembered even a strip club or two. I rubbed the back of my head, begging for the headache to subside. This was so out of control. First drinking and now smoking? I knew something was wrong with me, but I shoved that feeling at the back of m mind, unwilling to come face to face with this attention seeking problem I had.

Needless to say, Cobb was not happy when I arrived, at least half an hour late.

"Arthur, you're never late. Something wrong?" he said, his voice verging on the line of anger.

"Yeah, alarm broke. Sorry," I lied. I seemed to be getting good at that nowadays.

I stripped off my jacket and sat at my desk. I began clicking away at the computer screen, which burnt at the back of my hungover head. My breathing felt heavier, probably from last nights smoking fest. I had no idea how many I had, but it must have been a lot, judging from the taste at the back of my throat.

"Hey, Arthur. Have the pictures yet?" I heard Eames say from behind me. I sighed and held up a file of pictures, containing Eames's lasted forgery. He grabbed it from my hand and smiled. "Thanks." He did a double take and looked at me. "Do you want some water or something?"

"No, I'm fine," I insisted, clicking away at the screen. He paused, hovering over me.

"Ok, well, Cobb wants us to go under. Check Ariadne's layout."

I nodded and stood up, pushing my chair back. I heard a small noise and looked down at the floor. A packet of cigarettes had fallen out of my jacket pocket. I looked at them, horrified and quickly dove for them. I hand reached them before me and I felt my heart freeze.

Eames stared at the packet blankly. He looked up at me. "Are you kidding me?" he asked, his calm expression contorting to anger.

"Eames, shh," I begged, reaching for the packet. He snatched his hand away, disgusted. He turned around.

"Cobb!" he yelled. Cobb turned to look at him. Eames threw the packet in his direction, which Cobb caught. He looked at it for a moment. He looked at me, his eyes on fire, his fist clenching the packet until it was completely broken down.

"Arthur, you have 10 seconds to tell me what the hell you're doing to yourself," he growled, dropping the packet on the floor.

I froze, bewildered. "I-…I don't…It was just-"

"One time? Sure, just like the drinking. What about the next time, or the time after that? You're loosing control, and I don't like it one bit."

Cobb stared at me, and I noticed that Ariadne had now joined, staring at the crumpled packet. She looked at me. Even she looked angry. I suddenly felt cornered. I couldn't explain myself.

"Cobb, I-"

"Need help. That's what you need."

He stormed out of the warehouse, leaving me flinching at his remark. Eames glared at me.

"So that's why you were late. Having a smoke? Fucking hell Arthur, you're going to seriously damage yourself."

"You know what, Eames? At this point, I don't even care," I snapped, turning back to my desk.

"Thought not. Cobb is your best friend. He doesn't want to see you like this. He cares about you. Do you care about him? Because it doesn't seem like it." I felt his presence standing over me. "What is this, Arthur? A cry for attention? A change in reputation, or even the start of suicide?"

"Eames-" Ariadne protested.

"Or is the Point Man persona causing you to lose your mind, slowly and painfully? Does all the booze and smoking really fill that void? Does it?" He leaned down, accusingly. "What snapped inside you to make this happen?"

I didn't notice I had tears in my eyes until I shut them, trying to block out Eames's words. Why was he doing this to me? He could see I was becoming more upset my the second. I quickly became embarrassed of my stupid sensitivity and grabbed my jacket. Ariadne's cries of protest didn't keep me back, after all, I needed to get to the store to buy some more cigarettes. Cobb had destroyed my only supply.


	8. Too Far

**DISCLAIMER: Christopher Nolan owns Inception.**

**This chapter is a little short, but there is a point to it's shortness.**

There was a small voice inside me saying "Fuck work, you're not going in today". There was an even smaller voice inside me saying "Arthur, this isn't you. Go to work and do your job".

I didn't know which one to listen to. The whole night had been spend with booze and several packets of cigarettes. My disgust to both products was slowly subsiding. The taste of the cigarettes was becoming appealing. I lit up another and took a long drag, absorbing the strange sensation.

Screw Cobb. If he was really worried about me, he would have tried even harder to stop me. Some friend.

I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. I looked at the screen.

_Art,_

_Meet me at Danny's bar in 20 minutes, have something you might be interested in._

_Luke_

Something I might be interested in. How appealing.

* * *

"Arthur, glad you came."

I offered Luke a small smile, but I couldn't help being a little cautious. His eyes were a little bloodshot, as if he'd been deprived of a week of sleep. He seemed exited.

"So…you have something for me?"

His eyes quickly shifted around the bar. "Yeah, follow me."

He motioned towards the back door. Weary, I followed him out, which lead to a alley, filled with trash cans and fire escapes. He turned to me, and reached into his pocket.

"Look man, normally I wouldn't do this, but I think you could use some."

"Use some wha-"

He held out a small packet. Inside was a small amount of white powder.

Cocaine.

_Arthur, leave. Just walk away. Get the fuck out of this._

I froze, staring at the small packet he was holding out to me. He looked at me, expectantly.

"Arthur, take it," he snapped. This didn't feel right at all. This was too far.

"Luke, I don't-"

"Arthur, take the fucking drugs," he glared. "Unless you're just a wuss like I thought you were."

I shot my head up and glared at him. "I'd rather be a wuss than a drug addict."

"Sure. Look, I have to go, just take them and throw them away if you don't want them," he shoved the packet into my jacket pocket. I opened my mouth to protest, but he was already halfway down the street. I stood there, motionless. I had cocaine in my pocket. I felt stuck to the ground. I heard police sirens in the distance. I knew that this was a rough neighbourhood, and they wouldn't be looking at me, but I panicked and ran anyway. I didn't stop until I reached my apartment.

I stripped off my clothing and slid under the covers, turning the light off. I lay in the pitch black.

_Nice one Arthur. You let yourself get to this. Some Point Man you are._


	9. Reputation

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Inception.**

**This chapter is a little short, but it was just an emotional look into Arthur's head. Next one will be longer I promise.**

I woke up shaking. It was 3.00am and I couldn't go back to sleep. The idea of having drugs in my jacket pocket frightened the hell out of me. This had gone entirely too far.

I knew the effects of cocaine. My father had been a drug addict, and I spent most of my childhood watching him slowly destroy himself. Eventually he realised that he couldn't do it anymore. He checked himself into a clinic and came out a new man. Ever since then my entire teenage life was full of 'just say no' speeches and constant drug checks after parties. There was a point when I was around 17 that I was desperate to find out what it was like…

…and now I had the chance. I had a small supply in my jacket, and I could finally try it. I tried to shake the idea from my head, but it kept at me like an idea. A resilient parasite.

I gave up and got out of bed, switching on the lamp before reaching over and grabbing my jacket. I pulled out the small bag of white powder and stared at it for a moment.

"This is stupid."

I moved to put it away again, but something made me stop.

I had always pushed bad things to the back of my mind, waiting for them to disappear. Memories, feelings, anything that got in the way of more important things like work. Now I had the chance to make up for that. Choose something. Create a new path, a new Arthur. The guy I had always wanted to be as a kid, even more now that I had grown up. Guys like Luke always had what they wanted. I was just reliable Arthur, always does what he's told.

It used to be about reputation, but now it was so much more than that.

I quickly made my way over to the coffee table and poured out the contents of my bag onto the surface. I had never done it before, but I had seen my father do it many times. Images burned into my brain from a young age.

_Arthur. Be serious. You are not going to do cocaine. You're smarter than this._

I shook my head. That was Point Man Arthur. Not the person I wanted to be anymore. I moved the substance into a thin line and leaned over.

_Arthur, stop this._

The voice was becoming louder, angrier. Except it didn't sound like me. I bent down and placed one finger over my nostril.

_STOP THIS NOW._

_It had become Cobb's voice. Yelling at me in my head._

"_Screw you, Cobb." I hovered my head over the surface and sniffed in, quickly and violently._


	10. Eames's Suggestion

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN INCEPTION.**

**I love this chapter. Especially the ending. Almost made me cry while writing it.**

* * *

"Fuck. Arthur, are you alright?"

I looked at Ariadne, angry. "Yes. I'm fine."

"You just look really tire-"

"I said I'm fine," I snapped. She turned back in her seat, looking hurt.

No I was not fine. I could barely remember last night. It all seemed like a colourful blur. All I remember was waking up that morning with a sore nose and a empty packet of Cocaine.

I slouched down in my seat, hoping Eames or Cobb wouldn't see me like this. My eyes sung and I had a headache like a giant fucking hangover.

The worst part was that I actually enjoyed it.

"So anyway, I was thinking…" I heard Cobb's voice from the doorway. I turned around in my seat and leaned my head on my hand, pretending to work. It was a rush, keeping this secret.

Cobb started talking to Ariadne and I could see Eames eyeing me in the corner. I silently begged for him not to come over. Soon, I heard footsteps and I could see a shadow cast over me.

"Arthur. Look mate, sorry about yesterday."

I nodded, still looking at the desk. "It's fine Eames."

"I mean, I guess everyone's just as frustrated as each other."

"Yeah."

There was a moment of silence. "Why are you staring at your desk?"

I sighed. "No particular reason."

I felt a hand on my shoulder, pulling me back. Eames stared at me for a moment.

"Wha-" he froze. His eyes widened, then narrowed into a dangerous expression. "You haven't."

I remained still. "I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about."

He glared at me. "Don't play games with me, Arthur. You've…done something you shouldn't have."

"I haven't done anything."

"You took drugs. Let me guess. Coke?" he spat.

I looked at him for a while. "Eames. Please don't tell." I could hear a slight break in my voice.

"Then stop it," he snapped. "Stop all this stupid shit. The drinking, the smoking and now the drugs? You've practically lost your friendship with Cobb and Ariadne. Don't lose yourself as well."

"I don't know what's happening to me."

He straightened his back. "Then find out. Take a week off. Do whatever, I don't care. When you come back, you'd better have sorted all this out."

The rest of the day was pretty much spent in silence. Eames avoided me at all costs.

Take a week off. I suppose that would work. I was beginning to scare myself. After work, I explained to Cobb that I needed to go home for some family business. I'm sure he didn't believe me, but he bid me goodbye and told me that they could handle the job without me for a week. I said goodbye to Ariadne, but it was awkward to say the least. I decided not to speak to Eames. He knew where I was going anyway.

As soon as I got back to my apartment, I started packing my bags. I had a quick shower to relieve my sore muscles and changed into some clean clothes. I had decided that the place I was going would be good for me. I drove to the airport, feeling the angst and pressure build up in me.

I knew the airport at the back of my hand. I had flown to pretty much everywhere there is to go. One positive effect of the job is that I get to travel anywhere I want. Another negative is that I never actually get to see the sights.

"Hello Sir, how can I help you?" The lady at the check in asked me, overly preppy. I plastered a fake smile on my face.

"Can I have a ticket on your next flight to Chicago please?"

"Return or one way?"

"Return." For now, I thought. Before I knew it, I was boarding the plane, feeling sick to my stomach. I decided if I was going to make it through this flight, sleep was my only option.

I could have really gone for a drink. It almost killed me when the flight attendant came around asking if anyone wanted any drinks. I just pretended I was asleep.

When the flight landed, I rented a car and started driving out. It was a long drive. Longer than I cared for. I felt stinging at the back of my eyes while I was driving down the familiar road. Tears trying to force their way out, but I held them back.

When I had reached the suburbs, I felt a little better. There was a lot of green. It was calming.

I drove down the road and pulled to a gentle stop outside a familiar house. I sat in the car for at least 10 minutes, breathing and trying to calm myself. I straightened my tie and got out of the car. I was so close to bailing when I reached the front door, but my body had other ideas. I knocked on the door and waited for the response.

When the door opened, I felt my heart freeze. A woman in her 50's answered, wearing an apron, her hair pulled back into a ponytail. She was elegant, and her eyes were kind and loving. Just as they always had been.

She looked at me for a second, before allowing her eyes to widen slightly.

"…Arthur?" she asked, reaching her hand over her mouth.

"Mom."

I felt her small frame wrap her arms around me. I was still for a second before returning the hug, burying my face into her shoulder as I had done during my childhood.

I don't know what it was. I just let those tears start falling. I started to cry on my mother's shoulder. She didn't protest or ask me what was wrong, she just stayed still, letting me hug her and letting me cry like a kid.


	11. Reunion

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN INCEPTION.**

"Where's Dad?"

"At work. He should be back at anytime now." Mom motioned for me to sit on the kitchen stool. She smiled kindly. "I've missed you so much."

"Me too, Mom. How long has it been?"

She paused for a moment. "2 years."

I suddenly felt guilty. "Geez. I'm sorry. I've just-"

"Arthur." She held her hand up. "I've always known you were special. You were different from your father and your brothers. Don't tell them I said this, but you were smarter, wiser, more aware of the world around you. I always expected you would go off and do something special with your life. Don't apologise for being yourself."

"Thanks, Mom." That last part killed me. Somehow I didn't think that her idea of 'special' was doing drugs and heavy smoking. She reached out and grabbed my hand, something that I hadn't felt in a long time.

"Speaking of something special, is there a special girl?" she asked, raising her eyebrow. The first girl that came into my head was Ariadne. There was a time when I developed feelings for her, and I still had those feelings. She probably hated me now. I went from Arthur to some jerk who ruined his life.

My mom looked at me, expectantly. "Well? There has to be someone, look at you! I made you into a handsome man."

"Mom-"

"You're a nice guy. Are you a gentleman?"

"Yes Ma'am. I guess…there is this one girl."

Her eyes lit up a little.

"But I don't think she thinks of me in the same way she used to," I mumbled. "I haven't been…as kind to my friends as I could be."

She frowned. "Friends are important, Arthur. Keep them close."

"I know."

It was silent for a moment. She leaned across the table. "So…it's not everyday your son comes home and cries on your shoulder the minute you see him. Care to explain what's up?"

I froze. It would break her heart. "Well…Mom-"

The front door opened. I looked in the doorway where my father appeared. I saw him and stood up. He had aged, with various lines forming around his eyes and face. He hung his coat up on the hook and looked into the kitchen. He smiled at my mother then looked at me. We were still for a moment, and he frowned slightly.

"Hi Dad," I whispered. It was a moment before he let a smile spread on his face.

"Arthur, look at you!" He came in and hugged me. I tensed but quickly relaxed and returned the hug. He released me and continued to smile like I had never seen before.

"How are you, Dad?"

"I'm fine, even better now you're here. How's life in the big wide world?" he beamed. "Where've you been lately?"

I rubbed the back of my neck, a nervous habit. "Well, lately I'm in Paris."

He chuckled. "That's my boy. City of women."

"George," my mom glared.

"Seriously, what made you leave Paris to come here?"

I paused. "Well…actually, I need to talk to you both. I have something to confess."


	12. Confession

**DISCLAIMERS: I DO NOT OWN INCEPTION.**

* * *

I paced up and down the living room floor, drowning my mind with ways to confess.

"Mom, Dad."

They were both standing opposite me, watching expectantly.

"Arthur, what's wrong? Did you do something illegal?" my mom asked. I found myself laughing at the irony.

"No," I decided to say.

"Get someone pregnant?"

"Ok, first of all, I'm 28. I'm not stupid."

My mom tapped her foot. "Well? What is it then?"

I stopped and turned to look at them. I inhaled slowly. "Ok, just hear me out. Don't get mad until I'm done."

They nodded. I sighed.

"Ok. Around a month ago, I started drinking. A lot. One day I took too much and ended up in hospital."

"Oh God," my mom whispered. I held my hand up.

"After I left, I continued drinking. I met an old friend who got me into…smoking as well. My friends tried to snap me out of it but…I had this obsessive need to…keep going." I paused. "A few days ago…I started taking cocaine."

I heard a sharp intake of breath.

"Are you serious?"

I turned around and saw my dad with an angry expression on his face. My mom had her head in her hands and was muttering things like 'How could you?' and 'Why?'

"Dad-"

"How could you do this?" he snapped. "How could you could control of your life so easily."

I was taken back. "I…I didn't mean-"

"How could you be so goddamn stupid?"

I clenched my fist. "Please, don't call me stupid. I never intended to do those things," I said through gritted teeth.

"Arthur? Why did you do this?"

"I didn't-"

"Is it work?"

"No he's being a fucking idiot."

I felt anger rising through me. I came here for support and help, not judgement. I would have stayed at the warehouse for that.

"I just wanted to-"

Dad stepped forward. "To what? Kill yourself? Start something disgusting and stupid?"

"CAN YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP?" I found myself screaming. I staggered back, surprised by the sound of my own anger. I blinked. I suddenly began to feel dizzy.

"Arthur?"

"I'm fine," I mumbled. I began to stumble. I placed my hand on the mantle for support, but ended up knocking over a vase instead.

"What's wrong?"

I shut my eyes and fell to the ground. I think I may have hit my head, because I remember a flash of pain before I fell into blackness.


	13. Punishment

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN INCEPTION.**

**Thanks for all the reviews! Sorry for the hiatus for the past few weeks, but I've had some writers block on this story. I really appreciate your patience. **

* * *

_Ow, my head…_

_Where the fuck am I?_

I wanted to open my eyes, but the bright light burned through them. Oh God, I was in another hospital. It was the familiar beeping.

"_He should be fine…but we have a serious issue here…"_

Voices. Too loud.

"_I can't believe we let this happen…"_

Cobb?

"_Why didn't he tell us anything?"_

Ariadne?

No, no, wait! I don't want to sleep again…

* * *

I needed to open my eyes.

"_Arthur, please wake up."_

"_It's really late, we should go."_

Late? Shit, how long have I been here?

"_I don't feel comfortable leaving him here."_

Don't leave. Please. Arthur, stay awake. Move or something, just stay awake…

* * *

This was it. This was my punishment.

I couldn't move or speak to my friends or parents. All I could do was listen to their voices. All their worry and fear was the only thing I could hear. The worst part was knowing I caused it. I brought myself here through sheer stupidity.

I promise, I won't do anything like this again. I just want to move. Be able to tell them I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry.

I wanted to see them. Cobb, Ariadne, hell, even Eames. I didn't want to be stuck here. Oh God, am I dying? No, impossible.

"_His heart rate is increasing."_

Ok, so I'm not dying.

_"Here's in there somewhere."_

Of course I'm fucking in here.

* * *

Mom, Dad, I'm so sorry I haven't visited in 2 years. I admit, I'm a terrible son. I should never have done any of this.

Cobb, I'm sorry I nearly cost you the job. I'm sorry I'm a failure as a Point Man, and as a friend.

Ariadne, I'm sorry I was such an ass to you. You don't deserve any of that. I'm sorry I couldn't be there for you.

Eames…I'm sorry. Sorry I kept this from you.

Please, I just want to wake up. Please.

"_Did you see that?"_

"_What?"_

"…_His eyes. They're doing something."_

Please…

"_Come on Arthur, you can do it."_

Please…

"_Please."_

Please…


	14. Waking Up

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN INCEPTION.**

**Greetings loyal readers. Enjoy.**

* * *

When I finally opened my eyes, the flood of light overwhelmed me. Noises seemed louder, smells seemed clearer and sights were brighter. It was light everything was amplified. It kind of felt like one big hangover.

I twitched my eyes around the room expecting to see everyone, but it was empty. A deep horror sank in the bottom of my stomach. Had they left me? Was I completely alone?

I stretched out my fingers and toes, feeling the blood circulation flow. I tried to push myself up, but it was difficult. I groaned in pain and I lifted my head further up against the pillow. A blinked a few times.

Great, another hospital room. I looked at my wrists and saw a few needles sticking in my arms. Nothing that shocked me. After all, that was one thing I was used to.

I looked next to me and saw flowers on the bedside table. Obscenely bright as well. I quickly found myself becoming thirsty. The back of my throat was dry. I leaned over and pushed the help button. Soon, a nurse appeared in the doorway.

"You're up," she smiled. "Can I get you something?"

"Ye-" I stopped, shocked at how dry my voice sounded. I tried to clear my throat. "Um, can I have some water please?" I asked, still sounding hoarse. She nodded and disappeared.

She came back with the much needed refreshment. I practically chugged it down. "Thank you," I breathed. I took another drink. "Um, can I ask you something?"

"Anything," she replied, checking the monitor.

"Has anyone been here to see me?"

She looked at me. "Oh yes, lots."

I must have sounded hopeful. "Really?"

"Oh yes. Your parents, this young British man, a pretty young woman and some man who claims to be your best friend." She smiled. "Were you hoping to see them?"

No. Yes. "Sort of."

"Well, I'll tell them you're awake. They'll be so happy."

Before I could say anything, she was out of the room, leaving me alone again. I tried to make a connection between the team and my parents, but it just wasn't happening. Jesus Christ, I had created such a mess for everyone. I hated myself.

"Arthur?"

I looked up and saw everyone standing in the doorway. My first impression was shock.

Cobb looked like he hadn't slept in weeks. His face was pained with depression. Eames looked rough too, only he looked more angry. Ariadne had red eyes as if she'd been crying and she had painted worry on her expression. Same with my mom. Those fucking tear stained eyes ripped holes through me.

"…" I was blank.

"Thank fucking God," Cobb sighed. He and my mom moved in closer and stood over the bed.

"Oh, Arthur," Mom breathed. "We…we just-"

"What happened?" I asked, sounding slightly slurred. Eames moved in and took his place in a chair, as if it were part of a routine.

"You fell apparently," he said. "Hit your head hard. Good thing too," he added bitterly. "If that wasn't going to knock you out, the amount of alcohol and cocaine in your system might have."

"Eames," Cobb said sternly.

I started moving. "I need to get up-"

"No!" Cobb and Mom shouted in unison. I snapped back into the bed quickly.

"Why?"

"Arthur, you hit your head. Hard. You can't just jump out of bed, you've practically been comatose for the past week."

I froze. "…What?"

I noticed my dad twitch by the doorway. "You really fucked yourself up," he hissed.

"Dad-"

"I can't. I can't look at you," he said, moving away. "I'll see you guys later." He disappeared as quickly as he came. Leaving me to stare sadly at the space where he was.

"Arthur?" I heard Ariadne's voice appear next to me. I looked up.

"Ariadne, I-"

"What the hell, Arthur?" she asked quietly. "How…how could you do this to yourself?"

"Yes Arthur, we need an explanation," Eames sighed. "You owe us that much."

"I…I just…" I looked down, ashamed. "I don't even know how to explain."

"This must be a lot to take in. Just rest for today," Mom said, offering a broken smile.

"How long have you been here for?"

Ariadne flinched. "All day, everyday. Waiting for you to wake up, if you were ever going to," she said, sounding like poison.

"Ari, I-"

"I'm sorry," she snapped, her eyes welling up. She turned and rushed out of them room. I turned to Cobb for an explanation.

"She's just tired," he sighed. "She misses you." He rubbed his face with the palm of his hand. "We should go, we'll come back tomorrow."

"We're so glad you're ok."

I wanted them to stay, but I couldn't think of anything to say to prevent them from going.


	15. Idea

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN INCEPTION.**

**Please let me explain a little about this chapter. It's changed POVs because it's NOT from Arthur's POV this time. Someone said that the chapters are getting a bit repetitive, and I fully appreciate criticism. So here's a small twist.**

**Arthur**

Nobody talked about it. Why I was there, I mean.

I guess everybody just found the situation uncomfortable. Fair enough, I didn't really want to talk about it anyway.

I couldn't leave the hospital for a couple of days, which sucked.

I didn't hadn't seen Dad for a couple of days, which sucked.

I hadn't seen Ariadne since I woke up. That really sucked.

I feel like I haven't showered in weeks. I probably haven't. These hospital clothes are uncomfortable, my hair is all messed up and it seems that everything is out of my control.

My mom sat by the side of my bed. Evidently, it was her day to watch me. "So…is that the Ariadne you were talking about?"

"How many Ariadne's do you know?" I found myself smirking.

"She's pretty," she casually said. "Smart too. I'd keep an eye on that one."

"Hmm. Shame she hates me."

She looked up at me. "She doesn't hate you."

"She doesn't come and visit me."

"She cares about you. She came here everyday when you were sleeping."

"Hmm."

Silence filled the room again.

"Who's next?" I asked. It didn't mean to sound hurtful, but it kind of did. Mom looked hurt when she looked at me.

"I, um…Eames, I think."

I groaned. "I'll pay you a million dollars to keep him away from me."

She chuckled. "Do you even have a million dollars?"

Not far off. "…No."

"Right, Diane. You're off the hook." Eames appeared in the doorway. I rolled my eyes. I received a small kiss on the forehead from my mom before she left. Eames took his normal spot in the chair.

"Don't call my mother Diane."

"Sorry, but I don't even know your last name."

"…Whatever."

Eames looked at me for a moment. "Ready to talk about it?"

No. "No."

**Cobb**

This was ridiculous.

Eames was taking his shift with Arthur, so I was left alone with Ariadne. She hadn't taken to talking the past few days.

I sighed. "I just…can't understand why…"

"Arthur's so…together," Ariadne mumbled, trying to make sense of the situation.

I looked up. "You know…there is a way we can figure this out."

She looked up at me for a moment. It was an idea I'd had a while ago, but had been too afraid to try it.

"Something is wrong with Arthur. We need to find out what's buried in his subconscious."

Her eyes widened. "Cobb!"

"Think about it, you want to help Arthur, right?"

She nodded. "Of course! But I don't feel comfortable going into his mind."

"I'm not asking for Inception! If we find out _why_ he's like this, then we can confront him about it."

The door opened and Eames walked in, rubbing his tired eyes. Ariadne stood up.

"Eames, thank God. Can you talk some sense into Cobb?"

He glanced at me. "What's wrong?"

"He wants to perform extraction on him!"

Eames's glance turned into a glare. "No."

"Eames, look-"

"Cobb, we can't just waltz into your Point Man's mind! He's got a militarized subconscious for Christ's sake!"

"Well I don't know what else to do!" I yelled. "Arthur is killing himself! As soon as he's let out of the hospital, he'll start again!"

Ariadne looked at the floor. "Can't we just put him in rehab or something? There are professionals for this, Cobb. _Real_ professionals."

"Look, I know Arthur. He wouldn't accept rehab. He has an addiction. What causes an addiction? Something buried deep in the subconscious. He needs our help. Yes, he has militarized subconscious, but it's not something we haven't dealt with before."

"Can we just…think about this?" Eames asked.

I shook my head. "Arthur's being let out Thursday. We need your choice now. I need your help with this. I can't do it alone."

Eames and Ariadne looked at each other for a moment before looking back at me. Eames sighed.

"What exactly did you have in mind?"

I gave him a brief smile. "Thank you."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever."


	16. Buried Deep

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN INCEPTION.**

**Thank you so much for all the reviews!**

**Arthur**

Cobb walked in and stared at me for a moment.

I shrugged. "Want to take a picture?"

He flinched at my remark. "Not particularly."

"Well then stop staring." I looked back down at the crisp white hospital sheets.

He came in and slowly sat down on the chair. "Hey…Arthur? Are you sure you don't want to talk about this? I mean, you haven't really-"

"Cobb. Leave me alone," I demanded.

He looked at the ground. "Fine. Well, I'm here for an hour, so what do you want to talk about?"

I sighed. "How's Ariadne doing?"

"She's alright. Handling things alright."

"Yeah, well…she's not the one handling it," I spat.

Cobb frowned at me. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Hmm, let me think Cobb, I'm stuck in this hospital with people coming in every day asking where I went wrong."

"Where did you go wrong?"

"I've always been wrong!" I snapped.

He blinked. "…What?"

"Nothing." I shook my head. "Just…leave me alone."

He stared at me for a moment as if waiting for something to say. He gave up after a while then walked out.

**Cobb**

"What did he say after that?"

I looked at Eames. "He said he'd always been wrong."

He furrowed his brow. "What could he have meant by that?"

I shook my head. "I'm not sure. Maybe it's about self confidence?"

"Or lack of."

"Exactly."

I rested my head in my hands. "This just…isn't like him. I've never seen him this way."

Eames shrugged. "He's always been this way. It's just never shown. Something buried deep down here," he pointed to his forehead. "That's been there since an early age. It's only just broken it's way out."

"I suppose…"

"Look, Cobb, we'll get this done. Don't worry," he reassured. "Ariadne's working on some sketches as we speak and soon we'll be out of Arthur's head with the right information, and we'll be able to get him appropriate help."

I sighed. "That's the plan. Whether it works or not, we'll see."

"Cobb, look. There's something you should know."

I looked at Eames who was staring at the floor, guiltily. "A few weeks ago, when Arthur was up and running, I found a pack of his cigarettes." He inhaled. "I probably should have told you, but I thought it would just pass. Had I known…"

"Eames, it's alright. Don't feel guilty. Like you said, this has been with Arthur for a long time."


	17. Zoe

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN INCEPTION.**

**Thank you so much for all the reviews!**

**Arthur**

Hospitals were always depressing, but this one was by far the worst. The cream walls were peeling and the sickly yellow flowers beside me were dying. How ironic. But the worst part was hearing everyone walk outside the room. The insanely sanitary floors made the most horrible squeaking noise when the nurses walked past. It made me feel like I was in a zoo, with people going past, throwing me occasional sympathetic glances.

I hadn't moved from this bed since I was here. I was becoming frustrated. So I flung back the sheets and weakly pushed myself from the bed. I rested my hand on the wall for a moment, regaining my balance. As soon as the feeling returned to my legs, I began walking. I decided if I was going to be in here, I might as well get to know the place.

I moved down the hallway, the occasional doctor or nurse giving me a small smile, as if to say "Well done. You're walking!" as if I was a child. I felt humiliated. Normally when I walked down the streets, people threw me glances of admiration or attraction, but the people here either looked down on me, or tried to not look at me at all.

I turned into the next wing and sighed to myself. It all looked the same. There were a few art pieces attached to the wall, trying to add some sense of sophistication to the place. I walked over to the nearest window and placed my hand on the glass.

It was cold outside. I could feel the wind radiating through the window and on to my hand. It was nice. Refreshing. If only I could breath that air…

"Excuse me?"

I looked behind me and saw an open door. I paused for a moment.

"Hello?" the voice called again. I moved slowly to the door and looked into the room.

A young girl was smiling at me. "Hi. Sorry to bother you, but do you think you could pass me my book?" She pointed to the table near the door. I nodded and moved closer to her bed to pass her the book.

"Thank you," she smiled, placing it on her lap. "I'm not able to get up myself," she said, pointing to the UV attached to her arm.

I smiled half-heartedly. "No problem."

"I'm Zoe."

"Arthur."

"Nice to meet you. You can sit down if you want."

I sat down on the worn out chair on her side. She couldn't have been older than 16. She had brown hair and a set of hazel eyes. Her smile and kindness reminded me slightly of Ariadne.

She raised her eyebrows. "I take it that you're in well enough form to be walking around the hospital at 2 am?"

I guess time had escaped me. "2 am? Oh, I'm sorry…"

"Oh, don't worry. I have trouble sleeping," she sighed. "But yeah, you look well."

"Thank you. I don't feel well…emotionally," I admitted. "Are you getting better?"

She paused for a moment. "Not really."

I furrowed my brow. "Oh…why? What are you in for?"

She looked down. "Cancer."

_Nice one Arthur. _

My eyes widened. "Oh, shit, I'm sorry. I didn't-"

She looked up and held up her hand. "It's fine. Seriously. It's just…part of life's plan."

I let my head fall. "That's a brave way to look at it…If you don't mind me asking, how long have you had….it for?"

"Almost a year."

"Oh."

I shuffled my foot along the tiled floor. She cleared her throat.

"It's bone cancer. It's pretty bad, but apparently I could still get through it."

I looked up at her. She was still smiling. I tried forcing one back. "Well…I really hope you do."

"Thank you." She eyed me up and down. "If you don't mind me asking, what are _you_ in for?"

I took a moment. If I told her my situation, she would have changed her mind about me in a heartbeat. She was in here for cancer. I was in here because I got a little carried away.

"I…um…" I looked at her eyes and sighed. "…Cancer too."

_You son of a bitch. _

She furrowed her brow. "Oh…sorry. What's your situation?"

_That's right, lie some more to the cancer girl._

"Um…bladder cancer. Yeah, but it's all good now." I felt myself spitting the words out. I hated myself at that point.

She looked happy, but at the same time, envy and solitude filled her eyes. "Oh. Well…congratulations. Your friends and family must be very happy."

I hesitated. "Yeah."

She smiled again. "Well…you'd better go. They get very aggressive over their cancer patients."

I nodded. "Sure." I stood up and made my way to the door. I couldn't help but notice the rows and rows of get well soon cards lined up against her wall. What made people think a card would fix a situation like this? I had the sudden urge to rip up every one of those cards. I'm sure Zoe didn't like looking at them as much as I did. I turned before I left and gave her one last smile.

"Thanks for my book."

"No problem. Maybe I'll come back again tomorrow."

She looked hopeful. "Yes, I'd love that. Bye Arthur."

"Bye."

I shut the door and sighed.

Life really is shitty when you look a little closer.


	18. Going Under

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN INCEPTION.**

**Updates will be sufficiently less regular from this point due to increased school work. It should pick up again in a few months.**

**Cobb**

I paced the hospital hallways. Today was the day of the Extraction. Normally I was calm and composed about these things, but this was different. I was going into my best friend's mind, who happened to be seriously sick. Something made me feel like I didn't want to know what was going on down there.

The doctors were easy to pay off. We had Arthur for a few hours, all alone. It was all planned out perfectly.

I heard footsteps behind me.

"Ready?"

I turned to Eames, who was wearing an uneasy expression. "As I'll ever be."

He raised an eyebrow. "Think he'll suspect anything?"

"Shouldn't do. His mind is confused at the moment. Anything going on in there will be strange as hell."

Eames sighed. "Fine. Where's Ariadne?"

"She'll be here soon. Shall we go in?"

He nodded and followed me as I went into Arthur's room. Arthur was lying in his bed, staring at the floor. It was so disturbing. He seemed so…out of it.

Eames plastered on a smile. "Hey. How are you doing today?"

His eyes didn't falter from the floor. "…I'm a bad person."

Eames looked at me. "What?"

"I'm a bad person. I'm a liar, a criminal and an idiot." His eyes flickered up to me. "What do you want?" he snapped.

I blinked. "Um…well…we wanted to talk about your realise."

He seemed to perk up at that bit for a moment. "Seriously?"

I nodded. "Yeah, sure. The doctor will be here in a minute. Want a drink?"

"Yes please," he mumbled. I looked at Eames who started pouring a glass of water.

"Here you go," he said, handing the cup to Arthur. I swallowed as Arthur sipped from it. I heard a small cough from behind me. I turned around and saw Ariadne standing behind me.

"Hi," she whispered.

"…Cobb…" I looked back at Arthur, who was now becoming weaker due to the side effects of the sedative.

"Just relax, Arthur."

Arthur flopped over, caught by Eames who was swiftly by his side. Eames looked at me.

"Lock the door," I instructed to Ariadne before walking over and taking the PASIV out from behind the chair. I handed the needle to Eames, who slipped it carefully into Arthur's wrist.

"So who's the dreamer in the first layer?" he then asked, rolling up his own sleeve.

"Ariadne," I mumbled whilst dealing with my own needle. "We'll have 3 days, but I doubt we'll use it. We need to do it as fast as possible, we don't want the projections catching onto us."

I pulled up a chair and made myself comfortable. "We need to do this right. Remember, we find the problem, then leave. No complications."

"Yeah, we'll see," Eames muttered.

I gave Ariadne a brief reassuring glance before slipping under into the darkness.


End file.
